


The Sun is Shining

by rane_ne



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-up Frisk, And a pretty flustered Sans, Fluff, M/M, Male Frisk, Morning After, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5307068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rane_ne/pseuds/rane_ne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a slight weight on his chest when he wakes up, bleary-eyed and flushed with warmth. </p><p> <br/>Continuation to 'For Tonight, at Least'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun is Shining

**Author's Note:**

> [Life is good.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ymk1crmr4SY) Have some fluff.

There's a slight weight on his chest when he wakes up, bleary-eyed and flushed with warmth. 

Through the blinds, the sun is shining bright outside, displacing moonlight and a few jumbled, less than innocent memories. He moves a hand to shield his face, groaning, and incidentally brushes against something hard and bony. He finds his other hand wrapped around a fluffy blue thing, his legs parted to accommodate the bulky frame slumbering on top of him. 

Frisk blinks, vision clearing. 

It's Sunday, he realizes, and tomorrow he has to drive back to university after a way too short visit to the 'Underground Neighborhood.' All his friends would continue with their above-surface routines; Sans off to work, yawning all along the way, whistling some nonsensical tune to keep himself awake, and easy steps placing distance between the two of them again. Until he has time to make another long trip down to the monsters' central. Which might not be for a few more weeks... or months... or maybe even next New Years. 

*...nghh...

Sans shifts in his arms, jacket rustling as he squishes his head farther into Frisk's chest. The brunet tunes back in time to loosen his grip on the smaller skeleton, holding him more comfortably as he stirs and covering Sans's hands - now clutched to his thin shirt - within his own. The monster's sockets remain closed but his permanent smile widens noticeably at the touch. It's not uncommon for Frisk to witness Sans being so passive, but he's never really gotten a chance to observe him like this before. 

Beneath the glare of morning light, he appears ageless, eternal smile for once sincere over his relaxed expression. There are small scars scattered throughout his sternum, though, and the lines under his eyes hint at a weariness beyond that constant, lighthearted exterior. But he doesn't shatter as Frisk lowers a gentle hand to his head; is anything but fragile under the human's fingertips. He's firm bone, reinforced calcium, and a soul pulsing crimson with energy. 

Every twitch of his body reminds Frisk of how _real_ Sans is—of how deeply he's grown to care for this short, puntastic little skeleton. 

*whatcha thinkin' 'bout, kid?

Sans's grin is lazy as he cracks a half-lidded socket open. He's made a pillow of Frisk's shirt, tilting his head and nestling down drowsily. His slender bones tickle the younger's skin as he entwines them both digit by digit, squeezing tight. There's a gleam in that bright eye-light that fills the human warm with blood. 

Frisk can't control himself, bending forward to kiss the top of Sans's skull, his hand reaching to tease the skeleton's outer pelvis, his smile way too wide at the immediate blue that streaks over the other's startled cheekbones. Sans is still naked from the waist down, a fact that doesn't escape him - the skeleton giving an embarrassed grunt of protest - as Frisk heaves him up by the edges of his femurs, pulling him close enough to bring their foreheads together. 

*k-kid, what're you-

Frisk silences him with a slow, slick drag of his teeth against Sans's, swiping his lip across his opened smile and along his jaw. 

"I was thinking about how _cool_ you are," the brunet replies. Grinning, he continues into the hollow space of Sans's ear. "And now I'm thinking about how much I _want_ you." 

It's sinfully adorable how Sans's entire face turns a deep oceanic blue—how he tries to maintain his composure despite the sweat that collects on his skull and pools into the empty holes of his wide eye-sockets; despite the nervous excitement that rattles his legs together, hands scrambling to hide his face as if he could physically shy away from the human's confession. 

Laughing, Frisk grasps one of those bony hands in his own, placing a chaste kiss onto the underside of Sans's palm and hugging the skeleton closer to him. Loose rays of light filter in through the shuttered blinds, and even though tomorrow is Monday - full of school and work and empty footsteps to remind him of the distance that'll soon separate them - he's never felt better. 

The sun is shining outside, and life is good.


End file.
